For those expecting the breezy, melancholic storylines of Among The Leaves, get ready for disappointment. Benji, the latest release from Mark Kozelek under the Sun Kil Moon moniker, has none of that. Instead, Kozelek lets the words pour out of his mouth, endlessly spouting on whatever he’s decided to sing about. Any prose or poetry has given way to recounting each song as though Kozelek is reading from a book. Some might say this is a new, literary style for Sun Kil Moon. Some might just call it lazy
Benji isn’t lazy. Even if it’s not as enjoyable, or as easily digestible as Among The Leaves, Kozelek is mounting a very dedicated musical assault. Lyrically, yeah, Kozelek is up to his neck in self-indulgence, but the guitar work here is stunning. The chords being played, the way sections blend into each other, and then come back around. It’s all very impressive. As prolific as Kozelek is, Benji is one of his most challenging listens. All the touchstones are here. The album is melancholy, lamenting, and continuously sounds like the friend who has great stories, but all of them are depressing. As good as he is, sometimes you just want to grab Kozelek and shout, “We get it. You’re sad!!”
So, how much did you want to know about Mark Kozelek? “Carissa”, the opening song, is all about how a distant cousin died in a freak aerosol accident. Not to be outdone, “Truck Driver” is about Kozelek’s uncle who died the exact same way. We learn that Kozelek loves his 76-year-old mother, lamenting that he’ll lose it entirely when she finally passes away. “Ben’s My Friend” finds Kozelek working through some unresolved jealousy aimed at Ben Gibbard of the Postal Service.
When Kozelek’s endless word stream works, it excels. “I Can’t Live Without My Mother’s Love” is quite lovely, “Jim Wise”, featuring contributions from Advance Bass composer Owen Ashworth, is a song about a mercy killing set to music that might be called upbeat. “I Love My Dad”, featuring Steve Shelley from Sonic Youth on drums, is a groovy slice of alt-country, and “Ben’s My Friend” (the last song on Benji, it also features Shelley) is one of the best of the whole record.
Only two songs really don’t work. “Richard Ramirez Died Today Of Natural Causes” is just irritating in the way it is recorded. “Pray For Newtown” is a harder pill to swallow. An outrage song over school shootings comes across as oddly tacky on an album that is so completely self-involved.
Kozelek has always made records just for himself, and here he’s abandoned anything that could charitably be referred to as melody. This isn’t Morrissey, singing about melancholy with a lush, booming voice. It isn’t even the disturbed warble of Tom Waits, or the glum charm of Elliot Smith. Benji is Kozelek walking with us through a barren sonic landscape, and recounting what’s happened to him in the most no frills way he can. At 47, and with a huge cache of albums behind him, Kozelek is still challenging himself and the audience. If you dig that, great, if not, it might be better to move right past Benji.
Mark Kozelek has become the musical equivalent of Spalding Grey. If you accept the medium, and embrace the desolation, the journey will always be interesting.
